


i can't go on wasting my time (adding scars to my heart)

by Evanaissante



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Exactly What It Says on the Tin, Heavy Angst, M/M, Pennywise (IT) is His Own Warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-24 22:16:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21106892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evanaissante/pseuds/Evanaissante
Summary: He wants to scream, he wants to cry, he just wants to break every single part of himself and stitch it all to Richie, to stop it, to fix it all with himself. If he could reverse their places, he would. “I know,” He says, because he always has, even when he couldn’t remember the name of the missing pieces of his soul. He knew. “I do, I do too.”





	i can't go on wasting my time (adding scars to my heart)

**Author's Note:**

> sup, i'm sad so here is some sad.  
warning, it's very sad.  
sad sad sad.

Eddie doesn’t see the red, it all looks so green under this light, but he feels it, he feels the warmth of it on his hands, on his chest and on his lips. He doesn’t see it run down Richie’s torso, but he feels it pool on his knees. His hands go to the wound, he shouldn’t, it’s dangerous, it’s killing, but Richie says his name and he wants to put him back together again. 

The weight on his legs lift and Richie flies away screaming, Eddie tries to crawl to his knees but he’s shaken, he can barely feel the edge of the stone under his palms, he can barely hear his friends’ cries or how it resonates in the cave like a haunting echo. He does hear a loud thud, and he looks up to see Richie’s crooked form fall, his head and legs banging on the ground in a sickening sound.

His legs finally lift him and he runs like he has never run before, not even as a child when he would sprint away from his house, away from the windows where his mother watched, away from the static noise of the TV and the rattling music of his pill bottles. He jumps over something, either a rock or one of Pennywise’s flailing arm, he doesn’t care, Richie’s labouring breathes are louder than any roar of any monster and if Eddie has to die today, he’d rather do it next to Richie. It would at least be a little poetic and not just fucking tragic.

Richie’s fingers find his and Eddie doesn’t want to think about how cold they are, how thin, he doesn’t want to think of Richie’s hand, his fingers interlaced with his own as they pushed each other in the water, laughing and unaware that they had everything, that this was the moment he would remember, years down the line. He hopes Richie remembers too and that he isn’t here right now, not in the darkness of this cavern with blood pouring down his mouth, but that he’s swimming, young and unafraid, away from this. Eddie truly wishes it.

He’s holding Bill’s flannel to Richie’s abdomen when he’s reminded of the leper, of his hands around his neck and how small he looked. He tells the others so and he can hear hope in Beverly’s voice, but he doesn’t feel it, he’s icy all over, lost in how Richie’s eyes don’t seem to see him anymore and how his glasses are cracked all over. They hoist him up and he’s so heavy, so tall, Eddie remembers looking at him at the Jade of Orient and thinking that he looked good, that he did grow into his looks, the bastard, but now his height is just unpractical and Eddie wonders how soon they’re going to tell him that they can’t carry him, how soon they’re gonna ask to put him down. He would scream if he wasn’t too busy trembling.

Ben runs and they all follow him, but Eddie cannot move, his hand is clamped too tightly around the flannel, if he lets it go, he will break his fingers. His hand is drenched, his arm too and he watches without really seeing how Richie’s lips seem to dry and crack, his breaths turning into empty hisses. Eddie almost wants to laugh, this is the quietest Richie has been since they’ve come back to Derry, it would be hysterical if it wasn’t so fucking sad that it tears him apart. 

“Eds,” He whispers, so low that it sounds like a secret, “Eds, I need to tell you something.”

“Don’t talk,” Eddie replies, pushing his other hand to Richie’s abdomen, he prays that if he keeps enough pressure, it could maybe just fix itself, that it could just disappear, like every fucking vision of horror he’s witnessed since he came back to this shithole. A voice, loud and crazy in his mind, screams that this is just another trap, just another lie, that this one won’t stick either, but the tainted wetness of his hands tell another story. 

“I need you to know,” Richie continues and has he always looked so beautiful? Did his eyes always shine so brightly when he watched Eddie? Or is this just the reflection of the deadlights, blinding and terrible on his pupils? “I need you to know, Eds.”

He wants to scream, he wants to cry, he just wants to break every single part of himself and stitch it all to Richie, to stop it, to fix it all with himself. If he could reverse their places, he would. “I know,” He says, because he always has, even when he couldn’t remember the name of the missing pieces of his soul. He knew. “I do, I do too.”

Richie’s smile is something that will haunt him forever, he thinks, this show of teeth, something that should express joy but leaves him breathless with apathy. “I fucked your mom,” Richie says, because even dying, because he is, Eddie knows it, he could never help himself.

Eddie laughs, but it’s wet, “Shut up, you  _ fucker _ , shut up.” He would give everything for Richie to make a hundred, a thousand bad jokes again, he would cut his limbs off and slid his own throat, he’d die on these rocks too, he swears he would. 

Richie’s smile freezes and Eddie refuses to accept it, he keeps his hands where they are, he doesn’t move, he whispers too, words he never said, words no one hears and he doesn’t move when he hears the other start screaming, he doesn’t move when he hears Pennywise fall down, he does move when he hears the cracking sound of his claw hitting the air.

He rips it apart without hesitation and then he presses his fingers into the creature’s beating heart, his nails digging and digging, its blood mixing with Richie’s.

Richie.

_ Richie, Richie, Richie, Richie, Richie, Richie, Richie, Richie, Richie, Richie, Richie, Richie, Richie, Richie, Richie, Richie, Richie, Richie, Richie, Richie, Richie, Richie, Richie, Richie. _

His glasses have fallen off his face, they’re broken beyond repair, but he tries to set them back on his nose, he tries to get him to see, he tries.

Beverly says he’s dead but what does she know, Bill says to move but what does he understand, they tell him it’s too late, but he doesn’t hear them.

Richie died smiling.

Eddie never wants to leave Derry.

They drag him away, they tell him he needs to live, that he needs to run, that he needs to save himself and they don't understand, how could they, he's dead, they left his heart under Neibolt. He's breathing, screaming, but he isn't here, he's with Richie.

He guesses he always will be.

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to leave a kudo and a comment! and come yell at me on [tumblr](https://starryspice.tumblr.com/)


End file.
